Writer’s Manifesto

Today I re-read one of my old (and most favorite) poems, “Whiskey Pleading,” and listened to Miranda Lambert’s new album, “The Weight of These Wings,” on repeat at work. Reminded of the power and intrigue behind the right word in the right place in a sentence or lyric, I wanted to write. “Writer’s Manifesto” was for me a 20-min respite from corporate life on a Tuesday afternoon.


It’s beige on end

An end of the road

Soul’s like paper

Rolled up and stored


Blue reflections from the screen

In my eyes where thoughts used to be

Fingers on keys, not a piano

Rings through wires on a telephone


I look for the words

Every day

On the street, bus, and train


I look for the time

Sometimes it’s there

But so is fear

And “who will care?”


Living with heart

I’ll keep my eyes open

Beige to color

And my hand to the pen

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